UNSHAKABLE (Able Series Book 4) (7 page)

I pull my sleep tank off, quickly put on my sports bra, and a loose racer back tank. “You think I’m pushing it, Mom? It’s the opposite. It’s our first major recital, and I just want everything to be perfect. That’s all there is to my-running-my-body into-the-ground deal you’re talking about.” I raise my brow at her to put a rest to her train of thought.

“Alright, I guess I can accept that excuse.” She sits on my bed, crosses her legs, and folds her hands over her lap. “So, how was the date? I’ve been busy lately; we haven’t talked about that.”

I plop down next to her. “It went okay. But, there’s no umph. . . . no spark, ya know? Oh well, I know I have to kiss a lot of frogs before I get my prince, I guess I’m going to have to mingle some more.”

Soft hands now cradle my face, and they’re matched with so much love in her express. It’s a look that only a mother can perfect. “I’m glad you’re not brooding about him. Besides, being with someone like him is hard. This life . . .” She stops, allowing her eyes to convey a silent message, a message of understanding. “ . . . the life of service your dad wanted took a lot from me. Your dad’s time, my own freedom, and my personal choices regarding the needs and wants of our family are all gone. I guess what I’m saying is it takes a lot of maturity to understand a life of service. His time isn’t his, Sophia, and it certainly isn’t yours.”

I shrug my shoulders in indifference. “It’s all water under the bridge, Mom. I’m good. Don’t worry about me so much.”

“Are you sure?”

I give her a deadpan look. “Geez! You make it sound like I’m gonna fall apart without him. Like I told Darcee, it’s hard, sure. But I can manage. Remember you once told me and I quote, ‘Regret is one of the hardest emotion to overcome so if you don’t want to ever feel it, give a hundred and ten percent all the time’. Well, I don’t have any regrets with what I felt for Damien. I made it known, and I’m not ashamed of it. I was completely honest, sometimes brutally frank about it. And for what it’s worth, we had our good and happy moments, and I’m okay with that. I’m okay with my memory of him. I got this.”

She raises her hand in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m just making sure my only child is fine. Kidding aside, sweetheart, I’m glad you have a good outlook about this. I’m glad you’re seeing the positive more than the hurt.”

I pull her into an embrace. “Mom, it’s accepting that hurt that brings understanding. Like I said, there’s nothing to worry about.”

I release my hold on her and reach for my coffee while hoping that her interrogation is over.

“So, what’s your agenda for today?”

“Um, practice which should last until my lunch date with Darcee. Ugh, I know it’ll give me a headache since we’re going to talk about expense reports and then back here. Why?”

“Perfect! I want us to have a family dinner. We haven’t had one in a while. Any special request?”

“Nah.”

“Want to invite Senator Bradley’s son?” She smiles and winks at me.

I push her toward the door. “Go! Enough! Do what First ladies do and stop meddling with my love life!”

My mom’s giggles are infectious and the smile on my face is evidence of that. After many months of stressing over my relationship with Damien, I feel lighter and less sad. After quickly doing my morning girly chores, I step out of my room armed with my Prada shades that serves as a barrier between Damien and me.

However, to my surprise, I’m greeted by Luke.

Where is he? He’s not your concern anymore, remember.

“Morning, Soph.” Luke’s familiar voice goes in one ear and out the other.

I answer him with a nod and walk purposefully toward the elevator, shielding my face from Luke’s scrutiny. Why? Because surprisingly enough hurt radiates across my entire being with Damien’s disappearance, not even a ‘see ya later, brat’. What did I really expect? Though, there’s a small part of me that thinks . . .

No, I can’t think that. I won’t. I’m crushing that hope before it blooms again.

Beginnings
—they’re a part of life. They’re less hurtful yet more unnerving. I guess it depends on how one looks at life. I love beginnings, it’s the endings I don’t care for so much.

Endings
—they’re a part of life, too, and the more painful of the two. The chances of recovery, especially if they’re a bitter end, are slow at best because ache is harder to forget. But it’s only hard when you don’t believe there’s a beginning with each ending.

DAMIEN

Armed with my conviction, I drive toward the house that holds my Wildflower. I can’t undo that oath. I’m just merely changing the status quo. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. There’s always a way. The way from here on out is a gamble though. I’m hoping it’ll pay off in the end because I’m not only gambling with my heart, I’m also gambling with hers.

Gamble . . . I’m all in as always. I’m ready to roll the dice and let the chips fall where they may. So, I buck up and march toward the Oval Office with a purpose. I can only hope it plays out the way I want it to, with less tears shed and my balls intact.

I knock on the door of the study. When I open it, I face the man I choose to protect over the one I truly want to be a shield for. I’m walking away from her, not by choice but by pure necessity because my heart can’t withstand the torture of not having her. More so, her heart can’t—and that’s something I’m not willing to gamble anymore.

“You want to talk to me?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“So . . .” He points toward the chair directly in front of him while he remains standing.

If he’s standing, I will too. Not as a challenge, but as proof that I’m in this to win the girl . . . to win my Wildflower. I won’t cower, cover, or hide behind someone else.

Nodding he continues, “Alright, we’re playing who has the longest dick? Is that how you want to play this with me, Damien?”

“No, Sir. It’s not a challenge or disrespect, Mr. President. I just want you to know the level of commitment I have, and how seriously I’m taking this.”

With another nod, he states, “Your standing in front of me is enough testament of how seriously you’re taking this. So, Dan tells me you want to be transferred to my detail because. . . .” He stops and cocks his head to the side, waiting for me to finish what he started.

I give him a nod of my own after locking eyes with him. “Because I love Sophia. There’s no reason other than that. It’s both simple and complicated at the same time. But I thrive in complicated, and I desire simple. Your daughter gives it to me in spades, Sir.”

He leans against his desk, crosses one leg over the other, and folds his arms across his chest. “This is an election year, and your time will be consumed with my campaigning. How can you juggle that and have a relationship with my daughter? Assuming, she’ll accept you.” He stops and walks behind his desk, leaning against his chair with his forearm resting on it. “It will be a stressful situation between the two of you. Are you prepared for that? Is she? Have you considered all the problems that may arise if you proceed with this relationship you want to forge with Sophia?”

Standing my ground, I continue on, “I’ve thought long and hard, Mr. President, and I end up at the same point. Sophia is worth it. My feelings for her and hers for me are worth the gamble. It.will.pay.off.” I utter with as much conviction as I can.

He raises his brow at me with a smirk on his face. “You’re willing to gamble my daughter’s feelings? That’s some ballsy move there if I’ve ever seen one.”

I shake my head, not in defiance but in disagreement. “I’m not gambling her feelings alone, Sir. I’m gambling both of ours. Can I promise a smooth landing? I can’t. I wish I could, but it would be an empty promise. What I can promise is to give her my all, to always put her above everything else. I promised you before I’d be her shield that will never change.”

Both brows rise this time. “Above everything else? You’ll take a bullet for me, maybe die because of it. Is that putting her above all else? If you die, you know it’ll hurt her.” He pauses then says, “You can speak freely, Damien. I can sense the hesitation, so go for it.”

“What’s the difference if I guard her? I’ll take a bullet for her, too. She’ll understand because she knows the sacrifice.”

“You’re willing to risk it all? Your anonymity will disappear in the blink of an eye. Are you willing to lose that?”

“I wouldn’t be gambling if I wasn’t willing to lose anything. I know what’s at stake, and I can and will handle it.” I hope my answer will somehow diminish the doubts that are quickly setting up camp in his mind. I need him to back me a hundred percent on this because that’s the only way it’ll work. “I won’t do this without your blessings, Sir. Inadvertently, I’m putting her in the line of fire more so now than before, by doing this, by going public. People will see us, they’ll talk about us, but there’s nothing I’m hiding, not at all.”

“You know they’ll dig,” he retorts.

“They can dig all they want.”

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

Nicole enters my mind. Hiding or lying about it isn’t even an option, confessing is. “There’s one, Sir. About a year ago, I slept with Nicole a couple of times.”

Silence sets in, questions formulate in his eyes while my mouth is gearing to explain.

“I have a bad feeling about this, but I’m a man who believes in giving the benefit of the doubt. So, define a couple of times.”

“Five, Sir. The first time was when I came in for my interview. I was at a pub and one thing led to another. The second time was when I flew back for my second interview. She mentioned wanting to go to California, and I basically just told her to call me when she was in town. When she visited, would be the third. The fourth and fifth times were when I came back to D.C. to sign my lease. Talking about where she works obviously wasn’t part of our conversation.”

When your goal is to land a job protecting the most powerful man in the world, every minute detail of your life is scrutinized. So, I know my every move, when I do it, and why.

Shaking his head with an audible sigh, he answers, “Yes, a year ago she wasn’t my Press Secretary. She was working as the assistant to the Deputy Assistant of Media Affairs at that time. But, all that is beside the point. Have you touched her since then?”

I shake my head adamantly. “When I saw her my first day on the job, I talked to her only to end things, even though we weren’t in a relationship. I wanted to make it clear that any physical contact ended then. A couple of months in, she tried to convince me to give it another go when she noticed Sophia’s interest in me. I agreed to meet with her only to reiterate my feelings are not the same as hers. Though I have to admit, she’s been coming on to me since then by interjecting sexual innuendos in conversations or she’ll stand closer to me. I’m saying this to establish the fact that this is a one sided affair on her part, if affair is what you want to label it.”

“Did you tell Sophia? Or will you tell her?”

“I will tell her. I have to make her mine, first, Sir.” That thought makes me want to smile like a damn fool.

The corners of his lips tip upward slightly. “One piece of advice I can give you is be honest with her. Don’t wait, because if she finds out from someone else, it won’t be good. Also, Nicole is a go getter, meaning if she sets her mind to something, she normally gets it.” Sighing he continues, “She’s worked hard to get to where she is. If she has her sights on you, I’m almost afraid to think of what she’ll do. But let’s not create a ghost just yet; maybe her loyalty to me will put a stop to her advances. Now that we’ve settled that one, you know they’ll target your family. Do they even know what’s about to happen?”

He can sling any obstacle at this, but I won’t budge. I can’t—not at this point. Not after having a taste of her.

I take a deep breath in and expel it out slowly. “My family isn’t a problem, Sir. They can hold their own.”

We lock eyes and a stare down follows. No one blinks, each of us sizing the other, willing the other to back down—but I won’t. Never have . . . never will. A silent agreement flows between him and me. One of consent from him, and a sense of gratitude and acceptance from me. We don’t flinch or break eye contact. Even with a loud knock on the door the connection is still solid, but a loud gasp from the girl we both love breaks it.

Her soft questioning voice echoes, “Dad?”

I don’t look at her, though everything in me screams for me to turn around. No more verbal exchange happens between her father and me. A simple nod ends our eye duel with a hidden message of me treating his daughter with the utmost respect, and him giving me his blessings.

Turning to leave is when I catch a glimpse of my Wildflower with a mixture of surprise, nervousness, annoyance, and even a hint of anger on her face. Am I surprised? No, definitely not. She lives up to her name—WILD—and it’s up to me to calm her raging emotions. But should I? I quite enjoy the vibrancy of everything about her. She’s the zing to my dullness . . . the light in my darkness . . . she’s the color in my, otherwise, stark white life.

Sophia is simply my WILDFLOWER.

Beginnings
—I’m definitely looking forward to them—every minute of them.

Endings
—I’m definitely praying against them. When it comes to Sophia, any form of ending is not acceptable. It’s something neither my mind nor my heart could never understand.